song and his shots.

‘Why are you not at the betrothal?’ asked Olenin.

‘Never mind them! Never mind them!’ muttered the old man, who had evidently been offended by something there.

‘Don’t like them, I don’t. Oh, those people! Come back into the hut! Let them make merry by themselves and we’ll make merry by ourselves.’

Olenin went in.

‘And Lukashka, is he happy? Won’t he come to see me?’ he asked.

‘What, Lukashka? They’ve lied to him and said I am getting his girl for you,’ whispered the old man. ‘But what’s the girl? She will be ours if we want her. Give enough money —